


i don't want to be your happily ever after (i just want to be yours)

by Nicnac



Category: Smallville
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romance, warnings for extreme sappiness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-03
Updated: 2013-05-03
Packaged: 2017-12-10 07:41:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/783517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nicnac/pseuds/Nicnac
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lex and Clark tell a story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i don't want to be your happily ever after (i just want to be yours)

Lex strokes his fingers through dark curls, seeking to soothe and comfort the warm body pressed up next to him on the bed, lying against his chest and side. “Are you sure you’re okay?” he asks. It is abundantly clear to Lex that Clark is nothing of the sort, but even with all the years and honesty between them, Clark still doesn’t respond well to direct questioning, especially when he’s upset. Gentle suggestions tend work much better.

But not this time apparently, because instead of answering the question, Clark just attempts to burrow in closer to Lex. Lex finds the whole thing rather strange to be honest. He knows that Clark still takes on way more responsibility than anyone has a right to, and has some fairly major guilt issues, despite Lex’s best efforts, but Lex doesn’t think he’s ever seen Clark this upset after what should have been just a routine patrol. He supposes it’s possible that a body or two will show up on the morning news tomorrow, a testament to the fact that no one, no matter how fast, can be everywhere at once, but Clark’s reaction is more like what Lex has come to expect after major natural disaster. “I’m sure whatever happened tonight, you did the best you could,” Lex says, offering the best comfort he can without knowing more about the situation. “And that’s the best and better than anyone else could have done.”

This time Clark reacts to Lex’s platitude-esque statement – it seems Jonathan Kent has been rubbing off on Lex – albeit in an indirect fashion. He turns his head a little, so the words don’t get lost against Lex’s bared skin, and says, “Tell me a story.”

Lex thinks for a minute, trying to recollect a story in his repertoire that doesn’t involve any sort of death or destruction, undue sadness or heartbreak, and takes a distressingly long time to do so. Finally he hits upon something that, while not necessarily appropriate for cheering someone up, shouldn’t be particularly upsetting either. “Once, in ancient Greece-”

Clark interrupts him with a groan. “No Greek myths. Or Roman myths. Or anything about Alexander the Great.”

That knocks out almost all go Lex’s go-to anecdotes, especially as Lex rather suspects that Clark is going to shoot down any sort of historical or mythological narrative, not just the ones he’d mentioned. “Once there was… a boy,” Lex says, his tone brightening a little as he’s struck with sudden inspiration. “A farmboy, who, secretly, was also an alien from another planet. One day the alien farmboy was standing out on a bridge when a maniac driving a Porsche came up from behind and ran into him, knocking them both into the water.”

Lex can feel Clark’s grin against his chest, the same way he can feel Clark’s fingers trailing across his skin, delineating contours of muscles and non-existent scars. “You know, I think I’ve heard this one before.”

“Have you?” Lex asks, no more able to resist a smile in response to Clark’s than the tides can the moon or the moth can the flame. “Then maybe I should just skip to the end, where they both lived happily ever after.”

“No,” Clark says, and Lex can only assume he means that he wants to hear the whole thing from start to finish. Lex can hardly blame him, it’s by far the best fairy tale Lex has ever heard.

“Okay, then after they both fall into the river…” Lex continues, but he trails off because Clark is still shaking his head.

“No. I mean they don’t live happily ever after,” Clark clarifies.

Lex tenses, every muscle in his body going stiff and unyielding in an instant. “They don’t?” he says, and by some kind of miracle, or perhaps just long years growing up under his father’s thumb, his voice doesn’t break.

“What you have to understand,” Clark says while stroking Lex’s stomach, for all the world like he’s trying to comfort Lex after making that announcement, “is that the alien farmboy was also a superhero, and the Porsche-driving maniac was also a very rich and powerful man. Together they helped protect people’s lives and their livelihoods, but sometimes that meant that one or the other was too busy working for them to spend time together. And when that happened they weren’t happy so much as… annoyed. Frustrated even. And other times, one of them would get hurt, and even though they were both sure neither of them were going to die for a very long time, if ever, the other one would still would be very worried.”

“And I’m sure sometimes they got mad at each other,” Lex offers, still somewhat cautiously, though each word Clark speaks is like a balm to the stinging hurt in Lex’s chest.

“Mmm,” Clark hums in agreement. “You see, the billionaire was pretty focused on the bigger picture a lot of the time, while the superhero sometimes got so focused on the trees that he lost sight of the forest. And neither of them were entirely right or entirely wrong, and both of them were entirely stubborn, so sometimes they had some pretty big fights. But they always made up afterwards.”

“That’s good. Because I’m sure some days they were very sad, and I’d hate to think they didn’t have each other to lean on,” Lex says gently, and then waits.

Clark nods hesitantly, but with a definitive air that says he’s come to the decision to share whatever has happened with Lex. “Some days…” he begins slowly, “some days, people died. And a lot of times they were just random strangers. Still important people, because everyone is important to someone, but these people weren’t important to them. But other days the person who died was someone they loved.”

“Clark,” Lex says, and this time his voice does break, because how could he have not known something as important as this? How could he have failed Clark that badly?

“No, it’s not-” Clark protests. “She just looked like mom. She had bright red hair and looked _just_ like her, except there was a bullet hole in her head, and I just-”

Lex draws Clark in close, holding him tight until his stumbling words turn into harsh shuddering breaths, murmuring soothing nonsense all the while. “In spite of all that,” Lex says five, ten minutes later, after Clark has regained a semblance of calm, “I think they were happy most of the time.”

“Of course they were,” Clark says, seemingly not concerned enough about the muffled quality of his words to pick his head up from where it rests buried against Lex’s neck. “because no matter what happened, they still had each other. Because they loved each other.”

“Ahh,” Lex says, a smile of mingled contentment and satisfaction tracing across his lips. “So that’s how it ends.” Clark makes a questioning noise against Lex’s throat, and, with no small measure of fondness, Lex allows his hand to recommence in its stroking of Clark’s hair. “And they both lived _together_ , for ever after.”


End file.
